A solution of variables
by bhut
Summary: Sequel to Alternate Choices - Faith and her crew have financial problems and hatch a scheme to solve it.


**A solution of variables**

_Disclaimer: Rack, Faith and Harmony belong to Whedon, other characters are mine._

The vampiress was big, as big as some of the half-giant wizards from the far-away land of England, but somehow appeared to be bigger yet, and not so much as bulky than sinuous. Her skin too was not pale unlike that of the majority of vampires due to their lack of sun exposure, but rather suntanned, and weathered with an almost leathery quality. Her hair was short, curly, and of a bleached red color – and so were her eyes for the moment, for her face currently bore the vampire's typical ridges, though they were noticeably more pronounced than they usually were. Her name was Alexikarra (the short version), but that was forgotten by almost everyone at this moment in time, and her best ally, Faith the Vampire Slayer, just called her Big Red. (To differentiate from one Willow Rosenberg, whom Faith called simply Red.)

"I don't know, Faith," she admitted, as she cast aside the corpse she'd been draining moments ago of blood. "Make no mistake, put that little weasel, Rack, within the reach of my grasp and I'll be extremely happy to show him just who's the top sorceress in this town, but he's despicably good at avoiding other magic-users other than his clientele and if he does sense me anywhere nearby, he will leave for the next two week or so, but he will be back, too, and we've got other things to worry about than to just chase him, no?"

"Too true, too true," Faith agreed, wisely. "Old Snarl's tribute is coming up, no?"

"Yup, and while I would rather rip out his throat and end his existence, I asked the Night Dragon's oracle for guidance, and he told me not yet. So, we've got to pay Old Snarl this time, and not dip into Sunnydale's official treasury...not if we want to give away the game that Wilkins is dead, may the Night Dragon gnaw upon his spine, skull and soul!"

"And we won't," Faith assured her partner in crime. "Look, just loan me some of your own monies, just enough to make it convincing."

"Oh?" Big Red's eyebrows (she no longer was in her game face) rose up. "Go on? It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that it's money were talking about, my money!"

"Cyril," Faith replied in lieu explanation. "He and his merry tax-collectors."

"Oh?" Big Red looked thoughtful. "I agree that they are nothing but dead weight. Want me to visit them and put them out for good? I can do it this night, you know?"

"No," Faith smiled with very little humor on her face, "I will take care of the goat-boy and drive Rack straight to you personally. It's about time that I stretched my brains rather than my muscles and reminded Sunnydale that B is the blonde one. So, can I please have some money?"

"Of course, but since it's my money, I want a representative too. Harmony!" Big Red roared across her lair. "Come here?"

"Yes?" Big Red's latest childe looked in, meekly. Considering that both Faith and her dam could kill the blonde with just one good blow, caution was a must.

"This is Faith. Remember? You're coming with her," Big Red's voice didn't leave Harmony any room for argument, so the small blonde just nodded in response.

/

"Yo! Goat-boy! I'm calling you out!" Faith's voice ran over the Sunnydale's toll booth station. Its staff, vampires all, just stood there, silent and hungry, eyeing both the Vampire Slayer and Harmony, when Cyril, their master, made an appearance.

Easily three meters tall and weighing over three hundred kilograms, Cyril was an impressive sight, from his feet to his curving ram's horns. "Slayer," he growled, revealing crystalline fangs. If Faith hadn't been 'handled' by Kakistos a long time ago, she might've even been intimidated.

"Cyril," she cheerfully replied. "I want to hire you and your boys as muscles."

"Oh?" the massive ogre thoughtfully replied. "To what end?"

"You know the pusher-sorcerer, Rack? He had run afoul of Warwick's Hellion crew and would like to use some protection."

"And let me guess: our honorable mayor decided to use me and my boys as the solution," Cyril grinned hungrily. "Normally I'd say sod off, you and Rack have enough weasel between each other to get out of any difficulty, but this is Hellions we're talking about – I hate Hellions, so I am in."

"Splendid! We're off to tell the mayor the good news," Faith's own grin had surprisingly little humor behind it and made the ogre seem downright friendly. "Harmony, come on!"

The blonde and brunette ran off. Cyril, meanwhile, turned to face his minions: "Lads, shape up! We've got ourselves some Hellions' heads to bash!"

/

After weeks of being pursued by Kakistos across the better part of the US, made Faith an excel-lent walker and runner, so only after Harmony stopped breathing and tapped in into her vampire powers was she able to catch up to the Slayer, who was already putting on her disguise. "Took your time, didn't you?" Faith asked, somewhat bitterly. "Ah, well. Maybe some good will come out of you yet."

"Er..."

"Just guard my regular clothing, would you?" Faith replied almost kindly to the blonde. "And once I and the Hellions begin to march to Rack's, follow. Got it?"

"Yes," Harmony nodded, knowing that if she messed this up, her monstrous dam would not be forgiving for Faith's potential demise. "I got it – Faith."

The Vampire Slayer just gave the blonde an odd little smile and entered Willy's.

/

Willy's bar was well-known across Sunnydale, just as Willy's clientele was. That was why Faith had never entered it without a disguise – a leftover from her life in Boston, but one that had served her well. In this particular instance, she was dressed in leather pants, relatively high heels and a tightly laced corsage under a jacket – an attire that made her look thinner than she really was and a demon groupie...or a lesser demon herself: her tightly wound horsetail of a hair style gave her a bony, pale, pinched face, not unlike her usual visage. Some dark make-up to contrast with the skin and make it appear even paler and less human and she walked up to Warwick and his Hellions.

"Hello there, handsome," she said breathlessly, in a literal sense as the corsage would've choked her if it wasn't for her Slayer strength; instead, she had to be careful not to shred the corsage whenever she exhaled. "Interested?"

"In you? Hardly," Warwick snorted. "Get lost, whatever and whoever you are!"

"Ah, but I work for his Excellency the mayor, and he has heard so much about you!" Faith replied nonchalantly, the Hellion's insult flying right past her. "Tell me, what you think about... Cyril?"

Now Warwick looked at her angrily, his brown eyes narrowing from anger. "An arrogant, flat blowhard," he snapped angrily, "who is nothing but a glorified spider, sitting on his road and letting it go to waste rather than he budges an inch!"

"Well, how would you like to deal with him once and for all?" Faith pressed on.

"With a great pleasure," Warwick confessed, "but he's constantly holed up at his station, just like the cowardly spider that he is!.."

"Not tonight," Faith said knowingly, "tonight he's going to a magic pusher called Rack to get Rack to share. Want to do something about it?"

Warwick stood up, and though he wasn't as physically impressive as Cyril, he was still very heavily built. "Lead on," he said firmly, smacking one of his fists against the other. "But if you double-cross us-"

"I won't."

/

"Mr. Rack?" Harmony asked breathlessly, as she knocked on the sorcerer's door, "are you in?"

"Of course I am in – I am always in, unless I am out," Rack flippantly replied, even as he stepped outside (he sometimes did that just for the fun of it). "What seems to be the problem?"

"Ah! You're Rack," Cyril explained enthusiastically (which, since he was an ogre, was rather frightening). "Good! The mayor sent us to protect you."

"From what?" Rack asked, suspiciously – something here was wrong, when he was interrupted.

"Cyril! I knew I'll find you here, you wretch!" Warwick and his Hellions burst onto the scene. "There aren't any symbols or other magics to hide behind now, are there? Hellions, attack!"

With an answering roar, Cyril led his own forces into the fray.

"You know," Rack said thoughtfully, "I bet that the ogre's forces will win: other than their numbers, the Hellions got nothing on them, and-"

Cyril's club smashed into Warwick time and again. The first blow may've been lucky, but the next one finished the Hellions' leader for good. With their leader dead, the remaining Hellions scattered, like leaves on the wind!

"Ha! That's one for me!" Cyril crowed delightfully, before Faith emerged from the dark in her alternate, monstrous shape and tore off his head with the same ease that an alligator decapitates a sheep.

Now it was turn of Cyril's minions to scatter, for Faith's alternative form was monstrous indeed: even Rack himself whirled around to flee into the safety of his abode. Harmony, however, caught him in her grasp and didn't budge – and then Faith was upon them.

"Big Red?" she snapped as she grasped Rack with one of her hands and talked to her partner on a cell phone holding it with the other. "We got him!"

A fiery flash – and the three of them were gone.

/

"Well, that's that," Big Red told Faith a while later, after Faith had dressed into new attire (her old one got ruined in all the fighting). "Between his cash, Cyril's, and the Hellions', we'll be able to pay of Old Snarl this time, and he won't have any next time – I asked the oracle to be sure, you know?"

"Good," Faith shrugged luxuriously; glad to be free of that irritating corsage, among other things. "Glad to hear that this is going to be soon over as well. Soon, we will be unstoppable." She grinned, and her grin was reflected by that one the great vampiress's face.

Harmony, from her small corner of Big Red's lair, just looked at them, almost identical to each other, and just shivered.

End


End file.
